Choices
by lavender baby
Summary: Pansy Parkinson has had to make a few hard choices in her life, but she has never thought about regretting any of them until now. Until Harry Potter was dragged into her life and made her question everything she believed in. One-Shot, slight PansyHarry


I am a Slytherin.

That's not an excuse. That's not a reason. That's who I am.

I suppose many would find our arrangement distasteful, considering the age difference, but to me, what's necessary is necessary.

I needed protection and he wanted my body.

So we both get what we want.

Today, I send the house elves away; he finds them annoying and doesn't like it when they're here when he visits. As I stand in the kitchens and make my own breakfast, I think back on the circumstances that brought me here.

My parents, the people whom I had respected most in the world, had betrayed me. They had gone over to the Order, to the Light, and they had been caught. It had happened in my seventh year, the day they had been executed by the Dark Lord, the day when my world disappeared from underneath me.

My parents, traitors? How could it be?

I hadn't believed it at first. Both had been raised Slytherins with all the beliefs that went with it. I was a pureblood through and through, generations of breeding stood behind me. Yet my parents, the people who were the same as I, were traitors to the cause.

Being a Slytherin, I immediately understood the implications of their actions and what it would do to my own standing in Slytherin House. I was ostracized and sometimes, even treated hostilely by my so-called-friends. Of course, had it been someone else, I would have done the same as they did; it was what was expected. I was a dangerous anomaly, no one could be sure where my loyalties lay, because if my parents could be turncoats, then so could I. I knew, then, that I would have to make hard decisions and that I would have to make them quickly. As soon as I graduated from Hogwarts, the protection afforded to me by Dumbledore would disappear, and the wizarding world would be dangerous for me. I could not go to the Light and the Dark would not accept me.

I was in a confusing state of limbo that I somehow had to extract myself from.

That was why, when he had made his offer, I had taken him up on it.

Lucius Malfoy became my dark salvation.

He approached me after graduation, with a rose in his hand. Not a red one, not a white one, not even a pink one; it was a black rose, blacker than obsidian with a message that was all too clear. That rose told me that Lucius' business was serious and had something to do with the Dark Lord and everything that went along with him.

"Pansy," he had murmured, looking down into my expressionless eyes, "you've grown up."

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I have." I said back, looking up to blatantly study his face.

"I'm glad to see," his voice deepened fractionally, "that you've matured so nicely."

And as his eyes traveled slowly down my body and then back up it, I realized what he meant. Slightly amused, I arched an eyebrow and allowed some of that amusement become visible in my eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy, you flatter me."

He studied my amused face. "You play the game well, Pansy."

"What game, Mr. Malfoy?" I asked innocently.

"Lucius. You are a consummate flirt."

"Were we flirting?" I paused. "Lucius."

"You know full well we were, girl."

I stared for a bit before inclining my head.

After a few seconds of silence he extended the rose to me. "I have a proposition for you."

By then I knew what his proposition was and I was turning it over in my head and considering all the pros and cons, so I remained silent even as I took the rose.

"I should like for you to become my mistress. If you do so, I will of course, give you everything a mistress usually gets. A house, an allowance, and," he paused and stared forcefully into my bland eyes, "my protection."

He knew, of course, the position I was in; had been in since the discovery of my parents' betrayal. He knew that he was offering everything I needed in order to survive, because his position as the Dark Lord's right hand man meant that no one would question my loyalty if I were to belong to Lucius. No one would have the bravery to go against that which Lucius wanted, and his protection was the best way to keep myself alive in the dangerous game of Slytherin politics. However, despite all this, there were some drawbacks to taking him up on his offer. Draco, for one, was the boy whom I had dated off and on since third year. Becoming his father's mistress would certainly be an awkward position. Then, there was also Narcissa, a woman notoriously known to have done some nasty things to her husband's past mistresses. I could hold my own in a fight, but Narcissa was a formidable force that I would rather not have to go against.

I studied Lucius for a bit before voicing my concerns. "You obviously know that I can not afford to turn down your offer, Lucius." I allowed him to smile triumphantly before continuing. "However, I do believe we have some issues to discuss before we continue any further in that direction. Such as, Draco…"

"I have already informed Draco of my plans. He was reluctant, but I managed to convince him it was the best for everyone all around…"

No doubt Lucius had used all manner of threats to keep Draco from protesting his father's taking me as his mistress. Draco, I believed, had been my only friend left after my parents' betrayal. Oh, he hadn't been nice to me or spoken to me, but he had been polite and he had not been rude. His behavior had told me that he was the only one who had not yet condemned me for the actions of my parents. I had no idea why he felt so responsible for me, but I had always sensed it, and now, I was glad to know that my senses had been correct. I may have been a Slytherin, but it had been nice to know I had at least one person who resembled a friend.

I nodded to Lucius. "That's fine, then. Another concern I have is your wife. Narcissa has a certain reputation for her… temper. She is not known for looking the other way."

Lucius' face hardened. "Narcissa will not interfere. I've made it clear I will not tolerate it and she understands. She is not happy… but she understands."

"If you're sure… I shouldn't like to have a jagged scar down the middle of my face like Morgana Minchy."

"You won't."

I nodded again.

"Lucius, I know what I get out of this arrangement, but I should like to know what you get out of it. Sex is all well and good, but is that it?"

He drew me into a hug and I was enveloped in his musky scent. "I get you." he had whispered against my ear.

I slowly entered the present again and shivered at the remembrance of those words. He had gotten me, all right. A week later I had moved into a house he ha bought for me in a slightly fashionable side of London. A week after that, had been his first visit. And a week after that, after we had allowed news to spread of our arrangement, he had taken me to the Dark Lord.

"My lord," Lucius knelt at the Dark Lord's feet, "I bring you my mistress, Pansy Parkinson, the daughter of Fitzwilliam and Arabella Parkinson."

I too had knelt at his feet, and a second later I had felt a gentle pressure on my chin forcing my head up. I had met the Dark Lord's fierce red eyes, the eyes that had been the last to look upon my living parents.

"Girl, you have the look of your mother about you."

"Thank you, my lord."

His fingers tightened on my chin until tears of pain stung my eyes. "Do not thank me. Your mother was a blood traitor and even after death, she and your father shall not be forgiven."

He let go on my chin and I quickly ducked my head. "Yes, my lord."

The Dark Lord had then turned onto Lucius. "Lucius, you will guarantee this charming girl's loyalty. If she proves to be the same as her parents, it shall reflect… badly on you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord. She will be loyal."

"Good, now you both may leave."

And afterwards, Lucius had taken me back to my house and I fulfilled my role as his mistress. After that, as we lay resting together, he had told me coldly, "You will behave, Pansy, as befits someone who belongs to me. I should not like it if anything you did reflected badly on me."

I had stared at him with a submissiveness I hadn't felt. "Of course, Lucius."

Thereafter, he had left and we had repeated our schedule. He would visit me every few days each week to enjoy my body while I enjoyed his protection. It seemed to be an acceptable situation for the both of us; I certainly wasn't complaining. Being Lucius Malfoy's mistress had afforded me a sort of fearful respect that I naturally took as my due and even savored. I had not enjoyed my days as the Slytherin outcast.

As the war against the Light dragged on for another fretful year, Lucius' visits became more often and during those visits, his needs seemed to get a little more desperate and he certainly got a little rougher. However, since he didn't hurt me, I didn't mind because if being his mistress meant I was insulated and safe, all I had ever wanted to be, I would stick with the arrangement.

Abruptly, I am returned to the present by a furious knocking on my door. Quickly, I stride to the door and open it, only to end up gazing in shock as Lucius and MacNair drag a limp Harry Potter into my house.

"What…"

"Pansy," Lucius snaps, "do you know the anti-apparating spell?"

"I… Yes."

"Go cast it on your basement, we don't want our guest to get away."

I stare for a few more seconds into Lucius' almost demented eyes. Frightened, I run down to the empty basement and do what he told me to do. A few minutes later, Lucius drags in a still unconscious Potter.

"Lucius, why did you bring him here?" I ask quietly.

"Because the Order will be scouring all over for him but they won't think to look for him here." He drops Potter unceremoniously on the floor and turns to me. "The Dark Lord has plans for Potter that must wait until the next full moon. Until then, he wanted me to hide him away."

I grimace as I look at the heap on my basement floor. "Lucius, I won't be able to sleep if you are down here torturing him and he's screaming all the time."

Lucius grins at me. "Oh we won't torture him. The Dark Lord's plans require Potter to be in perfect health up until the full moon. Then we will use his body for what is to come."

I suppress a shudder at the dark look in my lover's eyes. Although I completely believe in the purity of those like myself, sometimes I can't help but be disgusted at the methods the Dark Lord uses to eliminate the Mudbloods. Perhaps there is more of my parents in me than I think. The thought is frightening, however, so I banish it from my mind. I am loyal to Lord Voldemort, I tell myself, I am not a traitor.

"Of course, Lucius." I say passively, and taking his arm, I begin to lead him back upstairs. "Let me give you something to eat. I cooked breakfast."

* * *

Hours later, I sit at my kitchen table and think about the person underneath my house. Stop it, Pansy, I tell myself, don't think about him. But my curiosity is too great, and before I know it, I find my feet leading myself to the stairs that go down into the basement. However, I am not a fool, so I take out my wand and hold it in the ready position. As I finally open the door, my muscles relax. Lucius must have tied Potter up while I was dozing.

"Pansy Parkinson." Potter stares at me with burning eyes from where he is tied to the piping of the house.

"Potter." I return shortly, stepping more into the dark room.

"What are you doing here?" he asks coldly.

"This is my house."

"I'm honored." Potter sneers. "I get to be held captive at Lucius Malfoy's whore's house."

Slightly amused, I arch a brow. "I'm hardly a whore. The word is mistress."

"Whore. Mistress. The words are interchangeable to me."

"Which shows how much you know."

There is silence.

"Come to gloat, Parkinson?" Potter hangs his head tiredly as if he is too worn out to even continue our banter. "Because if you have, can you hurry up with it? I'd like to get some rest before Malfoy and his scum show up to torture me."

"They aren't going to torture you." I blurt. Horrified at the impulsive words that had seemed to pop out of nowhere without any of my control, I long to clap my hands over my mouth. But that would be an undignified thing to do so, instead, I just stare Potter passively while he narrows his eyes at me.

"Why not?"

"They have other plans."

"What plans?"

"I don't know." I answer truthfully. After all, what could it hurt if he knew they had plans? It wasn't as if he could ever escape those plans.

"Malfoy not big on pillow talk?" Potter asks scornfully.

"More like we're not interested in pillow talk."

"So its just sex?"

I didn't know why I was talking so freely with him. I knew I shouldn't have been, I knew that there was no reason for me to do so. Perhaps it was because I knew he was going to die in a few days, and there were some things I longed to talk about but had no one to talk to. Potter was safe to talk to because he was a doomed man.

"It's not sex." I finally answer. "It's just a convenient arrangement."

"A convenient arrangement?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I needed his protection and he wanted my body. So it was an even trade."

Potter studies me. "Why did you need his protection?"

And here I hesitate. I still didn't enjoy talking about my parents, and since most people didn't upset me for fear of incurring Lucius' wrath, I never did have to.

But Potter stares at me with his green, green eyes and I feel as if I can keep nothing back. As if I should keep nothing back. Why had I never noticed his beautiful eyes when we were at Hogwarts?

"I was being branded a traitor by… by the others." I finish lamely.

"Death Eaters and Slytherins?"

"Yes."

"I see."

And looking into his eyes, I feel as if he really does.

Both of us allow the silence to lengthen, and uncomfortable, I study the floor as if the cement was intensely interesting.

"Don't you…" Potter pauses and shifts uncomfortably, "Don't you feel ashamed?"

'All the time,' I silently yell. 'All the damn time.'

"No." I say to him. "There is no shame in what I've done."

He studies me with an inscrutable face and this time I shift uncomfortably.

"I knew your parents. I saw them a few times at the Order's headquarters," he pauses then continues, "they would be ashamed."

Frozen, I stare at him at him in disbelief, until a few seconds later when I finally feel the hot comfort of anger. "You know nothing." I hiss.

"I know what they would feel at knowing what you've been reduced to."

"This is their fault!" I yell, finally spewing out the anger that had been boiling in me for almost two years. "They were blood traitors and they left me with no choice but this! It was either this or die. I will not be ashamed because I chose to live."

"There were other choices, Pansy. Your parents saw them." answers Potter quietly.

"My parents were traitors." I whisper, then I turn sharply and leave the room, slamming the door behind me.

Agitated, I grab a book from my library and lay on my couch. After a few minutes I slam the book closed in frustration, unable to concentrate on the words.

What did Potter know? What did he know about being a Parkinson? About being a Slytherin? About being a pureblood? What did he know?

Nothing.

'He knew your parents,' an insidious voice whispers.

They were blood traitors, I think fiercely.

'They were your parents. And they would be ashamed to know what you've become. Potter's right.'

Shut up! I scream. Shut up!

Finally the voice quiets and I am able to take deep breaths. Why was I allowing Potter to get to me? What he thought of me didn't matter in the least. I didn't care what anyone thought of me. I was a survivor and I would not feel ashamed for choosing the option that allowed me to live. Besides, who was I hurting by being Lucius Malfoy's mistress?

'Only yourself.' the annoying voice I begin to think is my reawakened conscience whispers. 'By being Lucius Malfoy's mistress you'll always be alone. You'll grow old and alone until Malfoy tires of you. Then you'll be alone AND bitter, left wondering about those other choices Potter mentioned'.

Those choices killed my parents, I think to myself.

'No, Lord Voldemort killed your parents.' it pauses and adds silkily, 'and yet you still serve his cause.'

Angry, and suddenly so full of despair, I spring up from the couch and go into the kitchen where I get a dreamless sleep potion. Downing the entire vial, I lay back down on my couch. I often avoid the bedroom when Lucius isn't with me.

That night, I sleep without the dreams that usually torture me.

* * *

In the morning I wake slowly. Sleepily, I wonder when Lucius will come, until I remember this is the day that he spends with Narcissa, who insists on having his time devoted solely to her at least once a week.

I valiantly attempt to spend the day doing only the things I normally do, such as reading, shopping, and gardening. Finally, I can't stand it any longer and I make my way down to my basement.

When I open the door, I see that Potter is sleeping, so I begin to back out, when suddenly I hear his voice.

"You're back."

I step back inside and study the man. Obviously, the night did not agree with him because he had deep shadows under his eyes and his entire stance seemed weary.

"Yes. I was wondering what you'd like to eat." I say impulsively.

"Eat?" he looks at me surprised.

"Yes. Lucius said to keep you in perfect health, that means you have to eat." I supply even though I know full well Lucius hadn't mentioned feeding his captive.

"Er… Well, anything you've got would be fine."

I nod and leave, returning a little bit later with chicken drumsticks, bread rolls, and a hunk of cheese.

I watch as Potter tears into his meal and become amazed as the color seems to grow in his skin until he no longer looks so pasty. I wonder when the last time he ate was.

Finally, Potter finishes and wipes his fingers on his napkin.

"Thank you."

I incline my head.

"I suppose you aren't big on the Death Eater torturing scene." he jokes.

"I'm not a Death Eater." I show him my forearms.

"Why not?" he asks bluntly.

"My loyalty is guaranteed because I am Lucius' mistress." I say simply. "Besides, I'm also a woman. They only let the really crazy ones join the Dark Lord's ranks."

"Like Lestrange?"

I shiver. I had met the slightly scary, very crazy woman once before, and I had no desire to repeat the meeting.

"Yes, like her."

"She killed my godfather." he says absently, too absently. "She also tried to kidnap Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour's child."

At this, my determination to remain cold and impassive falters, and my mask drops for a second. Too late, I pull it up, but Potter has already seen.

"Do you care about children?" he asks, and now I know he was only telling me about Lestrange's crimes to see if there was anything I cared about.

I don't answer him and instead stare at him with my mask firmly in place.

"Do you want children?"

The answer seems pulled from me. "Yes."

"Why don't you have any?"

"Mistresses don't have children." I say stiffly. "It would be inconvenient."

I had known, when I agreed to become Lucius' mistress, that I would never become a mother. Lucius would not want the inconvenience of a child and no man would want me after Lucius tired of me. I had known that I was doomed to be alone and childless after my arrangement with Lucius ended. And no matter how much my heart yearned for a baby to hold, there was nothing I could do about it. I had accepted it. And I had moved on. Or so I thought, for with Potter's questioning, I could suddenly feel the yawning, black hole inside of me that would always be with me for the rest of my life.

"I pity you, Pansy."

I glare at him. "Don't you dare pity me, Potter. I chose this life of my own free will and I will live with it. It was my choice."

But still he looks at me with green eyes shining with pity.

"I hate you." I whisper.

"What?"

"I said I hate you!" I yell this time.

"Why?"

"Because you come here knowing nothing about me and you make me question everything I believe in! Everything I've ever done!"

"Do you have regrets?"

I stomp closer to him. "Yes. Is that what you wanted to hear? Yes, I have regrets. There are a million things I wish I hadn't done and a million and one things I wish I had done! Are you happy now? I'm human just like everyone else. You've finally cracked me open and look at what you discovered." I surprised myself with a sob. "I'm human." I whispered.

Harry looks at me with tender, green eyes and says nothing and suddenly I can't stand it any longer. Sobbing, I turn and run to the door, leaving it open as I clatter up the stairs. I run all the way to the couch where I had slept last night and sob quietly into my pillow, in what has to be the weakest moment of my life.

Someone finally cracked me open and I discovered I was only human. A human with emotions, no longer a person who kept the cold so close to her. I was bombarded with feeling of hatred, despair, and ultimately, sadness, feelings I had kept at bay for two years.

After I finished with my weeping, I knew what I had to do. With steady legs, I go up to my room and go straight to my writing desk, where I take out a piece of parchment and my quill. Silently, I sit there and think about what I'm going to write. Then, I put my quill to parchment and begin.

Dear Dumbledore,

_I'm sure you're feeling despair right now. You shouldn't, you can't know what its like for it to take over your life and direct your actions. There are a lot of things that I allowed despair to lead me to do. There are a lot of things I wish I hadn't done. There are a lot of things I wish I had done. But then, we're all humans, and we've all done things we aren't proud of. I suppose what I'm saying is, I've spent a lot of my life looking the other way or blindly following the directions of someone else, and no more. No more will I do that. A few days ago, I heard word of something that I'm sure you'll be interested in. If I had heard about this three years ago, I would have laughed and congratulated the appropriate people, but two years ago, something happened that made me question everything, even if I didn't admit to doing it. I suppose by now you're wondering why I'm telling you all this unnecessary information, the answer is I'm only trying to explain why I'm going to tell you what I know. I'm done with regrets and I've only just started my questioning. _

Harry Potter is currently residing in the basement of a Miss Pansy Parkinson. The basement is covered in an anti-apparating spell, so you'll have to go to the house without apparating. The address is enclosed. Anyway, you needn't worry about being discovered because Lucius Malfoy will not be there all day and Miss Parkinson will be out of the house for the rest of the afternoon. Also, Lord Voldemort has some undoubtedly sinister plans in store for Mr. Potter, so I advise you to make haste and get there as soon as possible. And lastly, after you have rescued Mr. Potter, if you proceed upstairs and look into the open and disarmed safe in the master bedroom, you'll find a diary there that belongs to an important person in Lord Voldemort's inner circle (Lucius Malfoy). I'm sure you'll find it immensely useful to your cause.

Sincerely,

A former student

PS. Harry will know who I am, so can you tell him for me that my parents won't be ashamed anymore? I'm taking one of those other choices he told me about.

* * *

Hours later, when I returned home from my visit to Morag Goyle's house and a visit to the bank where I had cleaned out my account; I discovered that my front door had been blasted clear off of its hinges. I shrugged and stepped into the house where I saw that there were muddy footprints all over my formerly pristine white carpet. Shrugging once again, I made my way down to the basement where I discovered that the chains on the piping no longer contained Harry. Smiling, I went upstairs where I packed a suitcase of clothes. I was thinking that India would be nice at this time of the year. Still smiling, I apparated and disappeared.

* * *

"Here's the letter, Harry." Dumbledore handed the crisp parchment over to the young man slumped in one of his chairs. He watched as Harry sat up and quickly read it with a smile forming on his face.

When he finished reading the postscript, Harry looked up and grinned at Dumbledore. "Is the diary going to be useful?"

Dumbledore waved at hand at the parchment still clutched in Harry's hands. "The person who wrote that letter was correct. The diary will be immensely useful to our cause. Apparently, Lucius Malfoy enjoys documenting everything Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters have ever done, as well as everything they plan on doing."

"And the war…"

"This diary is a very powerful weapon for us. I shouldn't expect the war to drag on much longer."

Harry's grin widened and Dumbledore was struck by how happy the young man looked. It had been so long since he had last seen him with this unadulterated joy.

"Who wrote the letter, Harry?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

But Harry Potter only shook his head. "I think after the war ends, I'll be doing a lot of traveling."

Dumbledore nodded and pretended he knew what the man was talking about.


End file.
